


I'd Have You Anytime

by slytherinharrison



Category: Bob Dylan (Musician), Rock Music RPF, The Beatles (Band), The Travelling Wilburys (Band)
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Frottage, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Kinda, M/M, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Tom plays matchmaker, probably very unrealistic bc they didn't have sleepovers but c'mon let a girl dream, which causes Bob to throw stuff at him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:00:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22009648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytherinharrison/pseuds/slytherinharrison
Summary: “You really are the best friend a person could have, you know that, George?” George smiled and squeezed one of Bob's hands. He must have imagined the other's faint intake of air. His mind still did that at times. Maybe Tom wasn't completely wrong about the hero worship. “I'll give you a second to freshen up.” He stood, but Bob grabbed his hand again. “Don't, if you go, I'll fall asleep again.”George has secretly crushed on Bob for years, but when they get together to record "The Travelling Wilburys, Vol. 1", something changes between them.
Relationships: Bob Dylan/George Harrison
Comments: 11
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in two evenings because this ship and fandom has far too little content.
> 
> I'm quite new to the Travelling Wilburys, so this could be a bit OOC. English is also not my first language, so please forgive me for any mistakes I might have made. I hope you enjoy it anyway!
> 
> This is a work of fiction. It is written with the greatest respect for the characters that appear in it and is meant in no way as an offense.

George pressed the bell next to Bob's door and felt excitement bubble up inside him. They had recorded “Handle With Care” together with Tom, Jeff and Roy a while back during what came to be the founding of the “Traveling Wilburys”. Given how great their last writing session went, they had decided to do an entire album together. Now that Bob had gotten a short period off, they had agreed to meet at his house and stay and work there for about ten days. 

George could see a shadowy figure come closer through the milky glass of the front door, which was opened shortly after. He immediately pulled his friend into a hug and pressed him close. They stayed like that for a couple of seconds. George liked and needed this physical contact with the people he loved, but he knew that Bob wasn't like him, so he started to pull back. Surprisingly, he felt Bob hold onto him, so he hugged him even tighter than before. One of his hands wandered to his friend's upper back, close to the nape of his neck. Bob's head was pressed against George's shoulder and his curls were tickling his chin. He inhaled Bob's scent and felt a bit more at home already. They stood there for what felt like a short eternity.

Bob eventually started to pull back and George untangled himself from the smaller man. He met Bob's almost shy smile with a broad one, while also searching Bob's face for any signs that his friend might be unwell. He worried about him a lot, the endless touring and the contact with strangers day after day stressed Bob out. He looked exhausted, but otherwise quite content, as George noted relieved. “You're the first, the others will arrive in another couple of hours,” Bob told him, while he motioned him inside and took one of the bags from his hand. “But that's okay, this way, you have more time to settle in.” He gave him another small smile. “When did you get back?” George asked and the smaller man sighed. “Yesterday, in the late evening. I still got a bit of jet-lag. But it's fine.” He rubbed a hand over his face and to George, he looked far from fine. The younger man grew concerned again. “You sure?” Bob nodded. “I just need to catch up on sleep.” 

They arrived on the second floor of the house and the smaller man opened a door to what George recognized as Bob's own bedroom. “With so many people staying here, some of us will have to share. And I slept in a room with Tom before. Not doing that again.” George laughed. “I'm not sure if I'm a lot better. I can take the couch. At least for tonight, so you'll get a proper night's sleep.” Bob snorted. “And have you complain about your back all through the next day? Let's face it, we're not twenty anymore. And I'm so tired, I think not even Petty's snoring could keep me up.” As if to stress his words, he yawned and groaned lightly. George's insides twisted with sympathy. “I'll sleep here if you take a nap right now. I'll let the others in and wake you up as soon as everybody's here, okay?” Bob didn't look exactly happy about the proposition, but he seemed too tired to argue and just nodded, pulled off his slippers and flung himself onto the bed. 

George went back to the living room and played a couple of chords and riffs on his guitar, but grew bored of it after a while. When he got himself some water from the kitchen, he noticed the only partly unpacked groceries and recipes on the counter. Of course, if he had only gotten home the day before, Bob wouldn't have had time to prepare a meal. George looked at the recipes. They were quite simple since neither Bob nor himself were the greatest cooks. He could do this or at least help with it. George imagined what Tom would say later when he'd find out that he prepared the meals for Bob. Tom often joked about how bad George's case of hero worship was when Bob wasn't around. He may have a point, but George thought that their dynamic had changed a lot. George had gotten to know Bob quite well and looked out for him now and the other man let him. 

About forty minutes later, he had prepared a salad and a couple of other snacks, when the bell rang. George rushed to the door, where he welcomed Tom Petty and Jeff Lynne, who the former had picked up from the airport. Tom grinned when he saw George in the apron. “Look at you, so domestic.” George rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless and hugged both of them. “Could you be slightly more quiet than usual, Bob is sleeping upstairs.” Tom's smile fell a bit. “Is he alright?” George shrugged. “He will be, at least I hope he will. I prepared a bit of food, he just got home yesterday and is quite exhausted.” The others winced in sympathy. “Have you heard from Roy?” George asked his friends. “I think he'll be here within the next hour,” Jeff answered. George pulled off his apron and they sat down in the living room to chat.

Half an hour later, the bell announced the arrival of their last member. They welcomed Roy and George excused himself to wake their host. He found Bob almost exactly how he left him. He still had all of his clothes on and seemed to only have pulled half his blanket over himself before he had passed out. George didn't want to wake him up, but he knew that Bob would be cross with him if he'd let him sleep any longer. Then again, Bob was always in a bad mood when he woke up. 

George sat on the side of the bed and looked at his friend. Bob was truly beautiful, with his curls falling all over his face and pillow and his blue eyes, now hidden by his eyelids. George half shook, half stroked Bob's shoulder. He let out a small sound and squinted at George. Then, he groaned and stretched. The room was silent for a while. “All of the others are here?” George nodded, but then realized that Bob had closed his eyes again and consequently couldn't see him. “Roy just arrived. They'd totally understand if you want to sleep some more...” He trailed off when Bob shook his head vehemently. “I also made most of the recipes you had lying around there.” With that, Bob's eyes flew open. “What?” George smiled. “You've just come home from touring and still offered to host this. It's only fair that we help a little bit.” Bob stared at him for a moment. “You really are the best friend a person could have, you know that, George?” George smiled and squeezed one of Bob's hands. He must have imagined the other's faint intake of air. His mind still did that at times. Maybe Tom wasn't completely wrong about the hero worship. “I'll give you a second to freshen up.” He stood, but Bob grabbed his hand again. “Don't, if you go, I'll fall asleep again.” 

It took Bob a moment to get up, drink a glass of water and put on a new, uncreased shirt. The others welcomed him with hugs and warm words and he seemed completely awake after a few minutes. They sat down and shared stories and news over the dinner George had prepared earlier. Since all of them had gone through some kind of journey, they decided to head to bed early. Bob showed the others to their rooms, while George got ready for bed in one of the two bathrooms on the second floor. His heart fluttered slightly when he thought about sleeping next to Bob. He hoped that he wouldn't disturb him with his sleeping habits. His former bandmates, with whom he had often shared beds in the past, had always joked about them. He knew that he was a bit chatty and cuddly before going to sleep, but he could tone that down. What he didn't have control over was the cuddling he did in his sleep. He'd always wake up pressed up against whoever he was sharing the bed with. Ringo had never really minded though. 

George sighed and went back to the bedroom. He saw a couple of books on the nightstand and picked one up and flicked through it. He liked to read, but he had never gotten the chance to read as much as John had and none of his former bandmates probably had as much literary knowledge as Bob did. He'd always admired him for that. “You like it?” Bob's voice brought him back to reality. “I don't know yet. But knowing you and your taste, I probably would.” Bob smiled tiredly. “I can lend it to you if you want.” George only hummed and they laid down. Only when they were settled in, George realized how close they were. Bob was engulfed by his blanket like a cocoon, but his face was only a hand's length away from his own. 

Bob held his gaze for a while. Then he said “Thank you. For always being there.” He caught George off-guard with this rare moment of vulnerability. “Bob, I... I lo-” He caught himself in time. “I'd do anything for you.” Bob smiled. “And I'd have you anytime. Good night, George.” He laid his hand to George's cheek for a second, before pulling back and turning around. “Good night, Bob.” George noticed that his voice sounded slightly rougher than usual.


	2. Chapter 2

George woke up when something tickled his nose. He slowly became aware of his surroundings. Right, he was at Bob's. Speaking of which, it was Bob's hair that was tickling him. He was spooning the smaller man, his right arm draped around him and he must have buried his face in Bob's curls at some point during the night. God, his hair smelled fantastic. George was relieved that Bob was still asleep. Maybe, he could untangle himself from him before he woke up. 

George pulled his arm back slowly, but it was grabbed and returned to its original place. Bob seemed to be far more keen on body contact when he was asleep. But the instinctive, harsh movement must have woken him because his grip loosened and he stirred. George tried to pull his arm back a second time, but it didn't really matter anymore, Bob must have become aware of it by now anyway. The smaller man turned around and George held his breath. They were so close to each other, he could count every one of Bob's dark lashes around his beautiful eyes. He saw the other blink and his gaze dropped a bit lower for a second, before returning to George's eyes. Then he smiled timidly. “Morning.” Just then, George started to breathe again. “Morning.”

When they went down to the dining room, Roy and Jeff were already up. Roy was making tea and coffee and Jeff had prepared scrambled eggs and was now looking through some notes he must have taken just then or on the day before. “I didn't want to wake you, with how exhausted Bob was yesterday,” Jeff told them. George knew that what he really meant was 'I didn't want a tired Bob's wrath directed at me'. “I'll get Tom and then we can have breakfast together and plan for the day.” Jeff and Tom were sharing the bigger one of the guest rooms and Roy had gotten the small one. 

A few minutes later, Tom joined them in the dining room. While Tom enjoyed to sleep in occasionally, he was mostly in a good mood once he woke up, unlike someone else in their group. Surprisingly, Bob wasn't grumpy, he was engaging in the conversation and smiled every now and then. The others noticed too. “George, what have you done to him? When we were touring, I couldn't go anywhere near him for at least an hour after he woke up.” Bob threw a small tomato at Tom but smiled good-naturedly. “Shut your mouth, Petty.” Tom caught the tomato and ate it. “Well, that's more like it.”

After having breakfast and getting ready, they all met back in the living room with their guitars. They played some chords, bounced ideas back and forth and very soon, they were back in the same mindset that they have had while writing “Handle With Care”. The only thing that was different now was Bob chewing on his lip nervously. Maybe he did it the last time as well and George just hadn't noticed, but now, it was getting quite distracting. Bob had beautiful lips, George noticed just then and they were getting more plump and wet through the biting, making them look like – 'Don't even let your mind go there Harrison!'

George was proud to say that he handled this distracting factor gracefully, at least that was his own impression. He still sneaked looks at his friend and his quite red lower lip, but he was concentrated on the matter at hand and contributed to their creative process. When he was allowing himself a few seconds to admire Bob's beauty again, the other man looked up and their eyes met. Knowing he had been caught staring, George averted his gaze back down to his guitar, while his heart continued beating twice as fast as before. He could feel Bob's gaze on him for a few more seconds. Then he realized that Bob wasn't the only one looking at him. Tom was also regarding him with an inquisitive expression. Before he could say something, Tom put his guitar aside and suggested they'd take a break. 

Tom dragged him out to the garden to “smoke”, but George feared he knew what was coming. He stood next to his friend, who was actually lighting himself a cigarette and then offered him one too. After a few moments of silence, Tom asked: “So what's going on with you and Bob?” George's insides twisted nervously. It was what he'd expected, but it somehow still took him by surprise. “What do you mean?” Tom shot him a stern look. “Come on Geo, you know exactly what I mean. You've always worshipped him -” “Worship is maybe a little strong -” “Well, the point is, you were always close, but now, you act almost nervous around him and he's behaving so... un-Bobish.” He grimaced at his not very elegant neologism. 

George sighed. He had known for a long time that he wasn't straight. Being around Brian and John and Paul had confronted him with enough gay stuff over the years to question his own sexuality. He knew Ringo had too, they'd just gotten to different conclusions. He also knew he had a crush on Bob. That one was also not very new. He had been very impressed when they had first met him and when John and Bob really hit it off in the beginning, both he and Paul were quite jealous, but for different reasons. But it was him, who grew closer to Bob over the years. His desperation to become Bob's friend hadn't been purely platonic and it hadn't just been hero-worship either. Looking at “I'd Have You Anytime” and “Behind That Locked Door” made that quite clear. He knew he had a crush on Bob, had known for a long time, but it was a hard thing to admit to yourself, let alone to say it out loud.

“I like Bob a lot. Not just as a friend.” He looked at the ground and waited for Tom's response. He knew all his friends were pretty open when it came to sexual orientations, but it was a different thing if a friend falls for another friend of theirs. But Tom just snorted. “I know that, I think most of us do. But something changed, every time the two of you are in a room together now, I could cut the tension with a knife.” George met his eye again. He shook his head. “I don't know. He's more touchy than usual, he needs love and comfort right now. I think it must be the touring.” Tom hummed. “You never know with Bob. He loves you too, you know? I don't know in which way, but he loves you dearly.” George felt horrible all of a sudden. “I know and I don't wanna ruin it, you know? All I ever wanted was to get to know him, become his friend, earn his trust. I don't wanna lose all that just because my feelings are acting up.” Tom smiled at him. “I don't think you could lose him.” George thought of Paul and John and how that ended and smiled bitterly. 'You never know.'

They returned to the living room not soon after and continued where they had left off. But George's mind was still agitated from their conversation outside, so it was hard for him to focus. His gaze still returned to Bob every now and then. 'He's not John. You're not Paul. You won't lose him.' Bob seemed to notice his shift in mood and shot him some worried glances, but otherwise, they continued to work as before. 

A few hours later, they had a finished melody and the first version of some lyrics that they would revise later or the day after. Quite content with their progress, they took another break and Bob announced that he would start to prepare dinner. “I thought we could have a vegetarian lasagna with vegetables?” He offered with a glance at George. “I never actually made one without meat, but it can't be that hard, can it?” George's heart swelled in his chest. His friends were always so considerate, he loved them so much. “I'll help you,” he offered with a warm smile and followed Bob into the kitchen, barely registering Tom winking at him.

Bob had bought tomatoes, zucchini and eggplant for the lasagna, which they started cutting up. “Are you okay? You seemed a bit glum earlier.” George shook his head. “I was just thinking. You know, I love... this band, I love this band so much, our friendship... I don't wanna lose it. I don't want it to go down like last time.” They both knew what he was referring to and Bob nodded. “I don't think you have to worry. These are different people, a different situation and a different band. And I knew that once I let you into my heart, I'll never ever get rid of you.” He grinned. George smiled down at the vegetables. He loved that Bob referenced the song he wrote for him sometimes. It showed that it meant as much to his friend as it meant to him.

They fell into easy conversation after that and moved around the kitchen as if part of a choreography, as if they had cooked together for ages. George had finished the vegetables and Bob prepared the sauce and pasta. George watched him manage the two pots on the oven. Bob's hair was wild due to the humidity, he was slightly flushed and had rolled up the sleeves of his slightly oversized sweater. George had to pinch himself hard to not walk up to Bob and hug and cuddle him from behind.

Dinner was delicious and an as pleasant affair as it had been the day before. But unlike the day of their arrival, all of them had recovered from their journey and were well-rested, so they decided to have drinks. Bob had some very nice wine and whiskey in the house and soon, all of them had a glass of alcohol in their hands. George and Bob were seated together on one of the couches, but there was still some space between them. That was until Tom demanded to sit with them on the couch upon his return from the bathroom. The glint in his eye told George that he definitely had ulterior motives about this request. Still, he and Bob made room and Tom sat down on George's other side. 

Now, there was barely any space left between him and Bob. To get more comfortable, he put his arm behind Bob on the top of the couch. To his surprise, Bob leaned against his side and rested his head on George's shoulder. George turned his head slightly towards him and smiled. “Comfortable?” He could feel Bob nod and returned to his conversation with Jeff. He wasn't completely focused though due to the small weight on his shoulder, but if Jeff noticed, he wasn't saying anything.

After a while, George got a bit bolder and he stroked his thumb over Bob's shoulder. The smaller man leaned slightly into the touch, so George continued. He was discussing politics with Tom now, whose grin got a bit broader once he noticed the small movement of George's hand. Bob was following the discussion Jeff and Roy were having, occasionally chiming in, but staying relatively quiet. Sometime later, Bob shifted and George's hand was now lying on the conjunction of shoulder and neck, skin on skin because the shirt Bob had changed into earlier had a rather wide neckline. He froze, but when Bob didn't move away, he continues the stroking. He registered how Bob's breath caught and he was sure that he didn't imagine it this time. This knowledge made arousal pool deep in his stomach and he pulled Bob slightly closer.

When George returned from the bathroom, he was surprised to see that the others, apart from Tom, were standing. Bob seemed to have changed the record and Jeff and Roy were singing along while Tom watched them with great amusement. Bob walked over to him and suddenly, he found himself in a kind of awkward, kind of adorable dance with the other. He soon took the lead and pulled the smaller man a bit closer. They circled around to the slow rhythm, lost in the other's eyes. Sadly, the song ended soon and the spell was broken. Bob stepped back and cleared his throat. “It's quite late already.” Tom looked back and forth between them. “Yeah, we should go to sleep.” He proposed, which was quite uncharacteristic. “We don't want you to turn into a monster of sleep deprivation.” He added cheekily and Bob threw a pillow in his direction before heading to the bathroom.

George joined Bob in the bedroom after he too had gotten ready. Unlike the night before, George wasn't nervous. There was a weird tension in the room that he was sure Bob felt too, but neither of them addressed it. He could feel his friend's eyes on him as he settled down and turned to him. Bob smiled tiredly and nodded to the nightstand. “Want to read something?” George blinked with surprise. He had expected anything but that. “Uhh, do you?” Bob shook his head and closed his eyes. “Nah, too tired. But go ahead, if you want to, you won't keep me up.” 

George grabbed the paperback next to him and started on the first page, but he barely registered what the words he was reading meant. All he could think about was Bob, Bob, Bob. He knew his head was too full, his thoughts too fast to go to sleep right away, so he kept his eyes on the black ink on the pages for several minutes and waited for Bob to go to sleep. Then he could think and brood in peace and darkness, not having to worry about having to have a conversation about all of this. After what felt like twenty minutes, Bob's breaths were deep and even, so George put the book aside and turned the light off. Tom had been right. Something changed between him and Bob. And that equally excited and frightened him. But before he got lost in thought any further, he could hear Bob shift and suddenly press against his side. He appeared to be still asleep, but now his head rested on George's shoulder again and he was curled up against his side. George's heart raced, but he smiled at his friend and concentrated on his even and calming breathing. It didn't take long and he was fast asleep too.


	3. Chapter 3

Like the day before and probably also like all of the days to come, George was the first to be awake. Unlike the day before, he didn't try to move away. He also kind of couldn't, since Bob wasn't curled up against him anymore but draped over him. His face was buried in George's chest, his arm thrown over George's abdomen and his leg – George better not thought about where Bob's leg was unless he wanted to get a problem. 

It was a slightly awkward angle to look down at Bob, but George didn't mind. This was the one time that he could stare at Bob without anyone noticing or judging. But this freedom wasn't granted to him for much longer. He heard a loud bang downstairs, which seemed to be one of the others trying to prepare breakfast. Tom probably. The noise seemed to have woken Bob, who started to turn onto his side. 'Do NOT think about his leg, Harrison!'

After the usual ten to twenty seconds of acceptance that he was indeed awake, Bob opened one eye and glanced up at him. “Hey.” George smiled. “Hi. Slept well?” Bob hummed in response and propped himself up on one elbow, but he didn't move away. He looked at him for a while and George could see the thoughts spin around in that brilliant head of his. Then, he took a deep breath and opened his mouth to say something, when another sound interrupted him, this one not as loud but much closer. Someone had knocked on the door. Both of them froze, aware of their position. “Uhm, morning! Are you awake already?” It was Jeff and he spoke in a weird kind of loud whisper outside of the still-closed door. George cleared his throat and answered. “Morning Jeff, we'll be down any minute.” They heard him walk away and George looked back at Bob. “Alright?” He asked and the other nodded, but seemed somewhat discouraged.

Jeff had apparently woken all of the others too and they had breakfast together. George kept watching Bob and he didn't really try to hide it anymore. The others seemed to have caught on on what was happening and after the evening before and how they had woken up, George figured there wasn't really that much left to hide between him and Bob. He just wanted to know what he had been planning to say. As much as he loved Jeff, he silently cursed him for choosing exactly that moment to knock on the door because now, Bob was a bit more reserved again.

Their work followed the same pattern. George would watch Bob, Bob would occasionally look up, their eyes would meet and then, Bob would look away. He also started chewing on his lips again and it wasn't helping George and his concentration at all. Still, George must be some kind of multitasking genius because despite everything, he got some work done on their new song. When Bob announced a short break and went to the kitchen to get himself some water, George took his chance. He followed him and leaned against the counter, while Bob filled himself a glass. They looked at each other after he turned around and he didn't break the eye contact, but still seemed shyer than he had the evening before. Then again, he had been quite tipsy then.

“What did you want to say this morning?” George asked. Bob swallowed and seemed to resist the urge to look away. “Nothing of importance.” George raised one eyebrow. “Really?” Bob bit his lip nervously and looked down at his feet for a second before looking back at George. “It's not what I wanted to say that was important.” He sat the glass on the counter and moved closer to George. “It's what I wanted to do.” His gaze dropped to his lips. George lifted his arms to reach out for him, pull him closer when he became aware of someone waltzing into the kitchen. Bob had noticed him too and jumped back as if he had been shocked. Tom, that arse, grinned at them and said: “This is going better than I expected.” 'No thanks to you,' George thought bitterly. “By the looks of it, we can record two songs tomorrow!” They murmured their agreement and Tom seemed to catch on that he may have chosen an unfortunate moment to join them. But he committed to his action and stayed in the room with them, making light albeit slightly awkward conversation until they returned to the living room.

After their kitchen encounter, their “almost-kiss” - George felt a fluttering sensation in his stomach at that thought – Bob's behaviour changed again. Drastically. He didn't shy away from eye contact and he kept biting his lip, but it seemed much more purposeful than nervous. His heated gazes made the sweet excitement in George's stomach drop to a burning sensation in his abdomen. It went on like that and George got more aroused by the minute and had to keep himself from jumping Bob right there and then. His patience found its end when Bob lit another cigarette and made a show of sucking in the nicotine filled smoke. He let out a low and drawn out hum while looking at George challengingly, with one raised eyebrow and the hint of a smirk. 

“How about we have another break?” he blurted out. Bob grinned. “Sounds good,” he answered, put his guitar aside, shot George one last look and went upstairs. George looked after him dumbfoundedly. Did this mean what he thought it meant? Only one way to find out. He followed Bob upstairs and with every step, his heartbeat got a bit faster. It was racing by the time he stood in front of the closed bedroom door. He took a deep breath and opened it.

Bob was leaning against the slightly ajar window and was still smoking. He looked pleased upon seeing him and put out his cigarette. George closed the door and in the next moment, they were all over each other. Their lips met and their tongues soon entwined each other, while Bob had his hands fisted into George's jacket and George held Bob by his hips. After a while of heavy making out, Bob steered them towards the bed and pushed him onto it. He then climbed on top of George, settled in his lap and continued to kiss him.

They became very aware of the other's pent up frustration and desperation of the day, when Bob, seemingly unconsciously, rolled his hips against George's, lining up their still clothed erections for a second. Both of them moaned into the kiss and Bob repeated the action. They were soon grinding each other like- “We're like bloody teenagers.” George murmured against Bob's lips and the other laughed but didn't halt his movements. “Is that so bad?” He let out a shuddering moan. “Ahh, fuck, I haven't felt like this in years.” Then his head fell against George's shoulder. George turned his attention to the exposed skin at the side of Bob's throat which he by now knew to be very sensitive. He started kissing it, but soon, his kisses turned into playful bites.

While he continued his attack on Bob's throat, he let his hands wander to their laps and palmed Bob through his jeans, before attempting to open both of their trousers. Bob whined in his ear, slightly higher than his usual voice was and it reminded George of how the other man had sounded when they first met. “Jesus, Bob, the sounds you make.” The other man whined again when George lined up their dicks and closed his hand around them. Bob moved his hips in tandem with George's hand and they soon found a rhythm. He looked so hot and beautiful in his lap that he had to imagine Bob riding him. But that was a thought for another day.

Bob's moans and whimpers came much faster now and his movements grew slightly erratic. George also felt that he was getting closer and picked up the pace when he heard something. There were footsteps on the corridor leading to the bedrooms and George stilled his movements. Bob, however, continued to grind against him. “Don't. You. Dare!” he growled at him, but when George looked at his face, his expression was pleading. Bob was positively wrecked. So George clasped his free hand over Bob's mouth and continued to stroke the both of them. He felt and heard the muted whimpers against his hand as he watched the other man come completely undone. It only took him seconds to reach his own orgasm after Bob had cum. They just sat there for a couple of seconds, embracing and breathing hard, when George became aware again of the sounds outside. There were still footsteps, but they sounded much closer now.

On a sudden impulse, George flipped them, threw blankets over himself and Bob, wiped his hand on said blankets and grabbed himself a book. Not a second later, a knock was heard and the door opened a bit. Jeff's face appeared in the gap. “Bob's asleep,” George whispered while nodding at the man beside him, who was gladly positioned with his back to the door. “Oh,” Jeff said. It was obvious he found that hard to believe, given how flushed and dishevelled George was and how fast both of them were still breathing. “We were just wondering if he has anything planned for dinner, if not, we'd order something.” George tried to remember if Bob had said anything about food, but he was still in a haze. “I don't think so, just order something, we'll join you in a bit.” Jeff murmured a quiet “Okay” and then he was gone again.

Bob turned back around to him. “Do you think he knows?” George snorted. “Oh, he definitely knows!” They laughed breathlessly until Bob said a bit more serious: “I don't think they'd mind.” George nodded. “What did this mean to you?” Bob hesitated for a second. “Everything.” He smiled. “When you wrote that song for me, I thought you were asking me out. So I told you that I'd have you anytime. But afterwards, nothing changed.” George looked at him incredulously. “I could have had you this entire time?” Bob looked up at the ceiling and sung “All I have is yours. All you see is mine...” Then he turned back to George. “How long have you...” He was searching for the right word. “I've had a crush on you ever since we first met. It was kind of an open secret.” They looked at each other and Bob lifted a hand to the side of George's face. “I love you.” He whispered and George smiled brightly at him. “I love you too.” Their lips met again, but unlike before, this kiss was slow and chaste.

When they joined the others downstairs, Tom shouted as soon as he saw them. “SO?!” Bob feigned innocence. “What 'so'?” Tom grinned. “You fucked!” Jeff groaned and buried his face in his hands. “That's not what I said.” Tom made a vague gesture in Jeff's direction. “It's what you meant. Anyway, did you figure stuff out?” They looked at each other and smiled and George took Bob's hand in his. “I think we did, yeah.” At that, the others jumped up and pulled them into hugs, telling them “Finally!” and how happy they were for them. And George looked at his friends, his Bob and thought 'Yes, this is going to be alright'. He met Bob's eyes, who was just getting hugged by Tom and who gave him one of those rare big, beautiful smiles. This was going to be wonderful.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I hope you enjoyed it, please let me know if you did or if you have any constructive criticism.


End file.
